


It's What's Inside That Counts

by Vyvrik



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bahorel is a bit of a twat, Bahorel takes pool very seriously, Cosette is a wonderful friend, Cosette is very convincing... Or maybe conniving. Just a tad., Enjolras Has Feelings, Enjolras Is Bad At Feelings, Enjolras is out of his comfort zone, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Grantaire is really good at pool, M/M, Wildly AU, but I actually love him, it annoys Bahorel, no really, she also has a way with words, she just really wants to help
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-21
Updated: 2014-08-21
Packaged: 2018-02-14 03:32:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2176467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vyvrik/pseuds/Vyvrik
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cosette persuades Enjolras to go out "in disguise" in order to help him attempt to find a man. <br/>In disguise in her clothes. </p><p>It made sense to them at the time, of course it did, they were drunk, (and perhaps had just been watching Ru Paul's Drag Race...?)</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's What's Inside That Counts

**Author's Note:**

> Ok maybe it was me who was watching Ru Paul...
> 
> Yeah I don't even know what to say about this... I think I just wanted Grantaire to get his man? Or something like that?

It's What's Inside That Counts 

 

Enjolras swayed slightly, he ran a hand over his head as he stared down at the pile of clothes on the bed, Cosette was pulling item after item out of her wardrobe, holding them up thoughtfully before discarding them and repeating the process over and over. 

“Hmm, maybe, good colour,” That one went on the much smaller pile on the chair, but the more she umm’d and ahh’d the more concerned Enjolras grew, wondering what the fuck he was getting himself into, why the fuck he’d let her talk him into this, and why the hell she thought it was a good idea in the first place. No it just wouldn’t work, and it just wasn’t… right. No. Not right, not, _not him_. Not at all. 

Enjolras was really not ok with this. 

Okay, she was only trying to help, and they were roaringly drunk, oh yeah, that’s how it came about, he remembered now, a bit at least, but not sure at all now if it was such a good idea. 

“Cosette...” 

“Okay honey that’ll do to start with, we’ll see what we can do with that lot…” 

“Cosette…” 

“Oh! And we can’t forget to match the colours properly, I mean, you’re so much paler than me, hmmm…” she held up a blue then a red shirt, muttering to herself, “Hm, you always look good in blue, well you look good in everything, so we’ll find something we can work with, we just want to find something you wouldn’t normally do yourself, you know?” 

"I like the red, I guess?"

"Now there's a surprise." she tutted teasingly.

He stared after her forlornly as she went over to her dressing table, hunting through a pile of lipstick and nail polish, holding up a deep red in each and seeing how they looked against his skin. 

“Okay, Cosette! Enough! That’s enough!” 

“What?! But why?! Awww c’mon sweets, it’ll be fun!” 

“Fun for you maybe! But all this, I, I just don’t think I can do it…” 

“Sure you can honey, I’ll help, don’t worry,” she smiled brightly up at him and rubbed his arm reassuringly, 

“Look, all that,” he gestured at the multitude of lipstick in her hand, “It’s just making me feel really uncomfortable, okay?” 

“Aww, I know baby, it’s the same for anyone the first time I’m sure, but you’ve done photo shoots and stuff before, just think of it like that. Cos I still think it’ll work!” 

“What will work?! I’ve forgotten what the whole point of this even is!” 

“Getting you laid sweetie.” She said it without even batting an eyelid, and he blushed crimson from his roots to his tips. 

“But how? I’m a man… and this…” he lifted up the flimsy piece of red material she’d favoured a moment ago, “All this Cosette… it’s yours…” 

She looked at him in concern, “Babes, if you can find the confidence to do this, you’ll have no trouble doing it on your own, as yourself.” 

He nodded, unconvinced. 

“Think of it as dressing up in disguise, oh it’ll be so much fun!” she squealed excitedly, “And I’ll be right there with you, I’ll do all the hard work, all the talking, all you have to do is sit there and look pretty,” she tilted his chin down towards her and stood on tip toes to plant a smacker on his lips, “And it’s not like you’d ever have any trouble with that, is it?! Gorgeous man that you are.” 

She kissed him again on the cheek, giggling as he flushed again. “Okay, let’s practice now, sit,” Pushing him down onto her dresser chair she set about collecting a few things from her make up case. 

“What are you doing?” 

“I’m gonna make you even more beautiful than you already are, close your eyes,” 

“Why?” 

“Cos I said so,” She busied herself covering his face with a freezing cold cream, matching colours to his skin and picking up bottles and lotions, plucking a few stray hairs from his eyebrows and laughing when Enjolras practically had a heart attack, his eyes watering in shock. 

“What the fuck?!” 

“Take it like a man baby. You’ll be feeling more pain than that when you finally get down to the dirty the first time. Well that’s what we’re aiming for.” 

“Cosette! Oh my god how can you even say stuff like that! You’re so crude!” 

“What?! I said nothing crude! You think that’s crude, honey, that’s nothing, think about what’s gonna happen after we’ve finished with you, huh? Some big hunk of a man pounding his huge cock into that tight little virgin arse of yours…” 

Enjolras practically passed out at Cosette’s words, completely mortified, “Oh my god! Cosette!” 

She roared with laughter at his reaction, his face pale and stricken in shock, “Awww, poor lil baby Enjolras, all embarrassed, well you better get over that mon ange, that’s the whole point of this exercise here, right?” 

Enjolras spluttered and opened and closed his mouth as she laughed at him again, “I’ve completely forgotten Cosette how this is supposed to help me find true love!” 

“True love?! Don’t get ahead of yourself honey we just wanna get you some cock to start with, right?” 

He pouted at her defiantly, “I’m not some fucking ho you know!” 

“Obviously! Otherwise you’d never have gone this long without…” 

“Shut up! Hmph! Is it so wrong to wait til I find someone nice?” 

“Enjolras darling, there are loads of nice boys out there who’d happily snap you up in a heartbeat, your problem is you’re too picky and if they’re not Grantaire and you can't find anything to shout at them about, you don’t even notice them.” 

“What?!” Bright red was fast becoming his colour as it graced his face instantly again. 

“You think I didn’t notice hm? Baby, it’s written all over your face, and there’s nothing wrong with that, the man is walking sex, we all gotta have a wank fantasy right?! Just for real life we have to work on your confidence and finding a real gay man you don’t clam up around and can actually talk to. So, that’s why we’re doing this, if you can talk to normal men out of your comfort zone dressed as a hot mama, get used to them chatting you up and buying your hot self drinks and trying to take you home, well then we’re half way there, when you eventually stop shitting yourself enough to go somewhere as yourself that you’ll find other hot gay guys, like a gay bar perhaps...” 

“Shut up,” 

“...you’ll be much more comfortable as yourself. In your own clothes. If you can be yourself around dudes in my clothes, you can learn to do it in your own. Right?” 

“If you say so…” 

“Either that, or your deep seated irrational emotional psychological problems have fucked you beyond hope.” 

“You’re not helping!” 

“Sit still,” she commanded cheekily, covering his eyelids with powder, drawing lines all over the place and smudging things and patting and covering, gluing and defining. He listened to her working and could almost imagine her tongue poking out in concentration as she hmm’d and haa’d.

“Okay, open.” Standing back to admire her handiwork, she almost swooned herself as his blue orbs regarded her sternly. 

“What have you done to me?” 

“Baby, do you even know how fucking gorgeous you are?” 

“What?” 

“You are, seriously babe, you’re stunning, your eyes are amazing, look…” She handed him a mirror and he actually gasped in shock, turning it from side to side as he tried to see any trace of himself in there, taking in the smoky kohl eyes, long lashes and defined cheekbones. 

“I’m… a girl,” 

“You’re beautiful,” 

“I’m a fucking girl” 

“Well, that was the intention honey…” 

“Do I always look like a girl?” 

“Of course not, do you always look like this?” 

“Well, no…” 

“Exactly.” 

“Uh…” 

“Hang on, one more thing…” She reached for the deep red lipstick, matching it up to the nail polish in her other hand, “Perfect…” she whispered, moving to apply it to his kissable lips that were currently pouting at her. 

“No!” he exclaimed suddenly, “Not yet, I don’t think I’m quite ready for that yet…” 

“Okay,” she laughed, turning him to the large mirror propped up against the wall and holding up various items of clothing in front of him, “We can do the little touches on the night,” 

“Yeah…” He frowned slightly as he watched her sift through the diminishing pile. 

Finally she settled on a classic, classy black tailored jacket, cinching in his waist and creating hips with the cut alone. Cosette laughed hysterically as she noticed the shoulder pads comically making him look like some kind of 80’s superhero businesswoman, and ripped them out, his own real shoulders filling them out well enough. The matching hourglass skirt skimmed in all the right places, showing off his shapely legs. She threw him a pair of stockings as she hunted for something else in the bottom of a drawer, finally pulling out a big padded push up bra. 

“You need cleavage,” she explained, “And obviously I have no need for this… oh and we better get you one of those fake arses…” 

“What’s wrong with my own arse?” 

“Nothing my dear, when you’re a man, but you need some hips, and some hair,” she mused, “…and some heels, stand on tip toe,” 

He complied, and she laughed, “We’ll have to get you practicing that, and how to walk, how to sit, how to move…” she scrutinised him seriously, adjusting his boobs, draping some of her hair extensions around his face, seeing what other little touches they needed, compiling a mental shopping list as she looked him up and down. 

“Yep, you’re hot stuff baby, hot fucking stuff.” She said, pushing him into the bathroom to look at himself in the full length mirror. 

Enjolras couldn’t help but gape. Fuck. He was a woman. 

**************************** 

“I can’t do this Cosette,” 

“Yes you can,” 

“No, seriously, I really can’t…” 

He stood looking at himself in the mirror in the bathroom of her room, his new platinum wig floating in long tendrils around his face, the length softening his jaw, the colour flattering his natural pale colouring perfectly. His eyes stared back at him, well, someone’s eyes, not his own tonight, he didn’t feel like they were anyway, bright blue still like his own, but dark, sultry, long lashes fluttering against his cheek, the high bones accentuated subtly and his pouting lips a dark, deep red, matching his brand new fingernails, which he hated with a passion. How the fuck do women wear these things? 

Cosette stood back in the doorway watching, patting his padded butt as she moved to stand next to him, feeling absurdly proud and really put out that he wanted to change his mind. 

“All my hard work will be in vain! You look amazing! Don’t let it go to waste! Pleeeease? C’mon sweetheart….” She turned her best pleading eyes on him and he sighed dramatically. 

“It’s alright for you! You’re meant to look like that! What if someone sees me?!” 

“Honey, loads of people will see you…” 

“Exactly! I can’t do it, what if the others…” 

“The others are going to be somewhere completely different, you know it, I know it, we checked like eight times, this is my home town, anyone who sees us will think you’re an old friend or something baby, you’ll be fine. Relax,” She handed him a large scotch and he eyed it suspiciously, before resigning himself to his fate, and downed it in one. He shuddered, eyes widening and watering instantly, and held in a cough as he immediately held his hand out for a refill, which didn’t take much longer to hit the sides either, going down somewhat smoother without the element of surprise. 

“Can’t we go to a normal bar?” 

“We are going to a normal bar…” 

“No I mean, can’t I go normal…?” 

The pleading in his voice was evident but Cosette was adamant now. “No. We always go out with you normal, to a normal bar, and nothing’s changed in years. So it’s your choice. We go with you normal, we go to a gay bar. With all this effort, you looking this stunning, we go to a normal bar and see what you can do. We’re going out regardless.” She practically scolded him as he looked at her in obvious distress. “Anyway, I dare ya!” 

“Okay… okay," he sighed in resignation, still staring at himself in the mirror in disbelief, "I’ll do it…” 

Cosette couldn’t help the squeal as she jumped up and down, kissing him lightly on the cheek in glee. 

“On one condition…” 

“Name it…” 

“I’ll try, okay? If I feel just too, weird, if I panic, we bail, go it?” 

“Okay honey,” 

“Okay…” He eyed himself reluctantly one more time in the mirror as she dragged him away, teetering in his new stilettos. 

“Let’s go!” 

**************************** 

As they walked downstairs into the dim smoky bar, they almost forgot themselves, giggling uncontrollably as Cosette was the one who almost tripped and ended up in a heap at the bottom. Enjolras caught her arm just in time and they debated the merits of the hipflask of whiskey they downed in the cab on the way over. 

“I fully expected it to be you falling over!” Cosette squeaked as they made their way through the crowded room to the bar, background music from the band in the far back doing enough to obscure Enjolras’ manly laugh as she nearly went over again. 

“Remember your voice!” she hissed in his ear as the barman appeared from nowhere, blatantly eyeing Enjolras up, flirting with him as he stood deciding, oblivious, scanning the rows of bottles and fridges before settling on his usual, keeping something in his comfort zone at least. 

Finding a table fairly quickly they settled down, near the bar, and not too hidden so they could scope peoples reactions to Enjolras, and he remembered everything Cosette had instructed about posture and how to place his legs, having no trouble on the high bar stools as he perched himself on the edge. 

“Nice one,” Cosette was watching him, making sure he did everything she’d coached into him, and even more importantly, making sure no one around them was looking at them in the wrong way. But Enjolras was doing well, the only looks anyone was shooting their way were definitely ones of appreciation. He was discrete, subtle, she was impressed. 

“Here’s to us,” she raised her glass, toasting them both as he smirked at her across the table, 

“So I’m doing okay? Haven’t blown my cover?” 

“Not at all, you’re fucking gorgeous, everyone’s given you the once over, I’m jealous!” 

“You sure they’ve not just sussed…?” 

“Nah, babe I told you, you’re doing great, now just relax, drink and let the perving commence!” 

 

******************************* 

 

Grantaire lined up his cue and took the shot, scattering the balls all over the table and sinking at least three. He straightened up, rolling his neck nonchalantly as Bahorel glared at him from across the pool table. 

“You’re such a fucker you know that?” 

“Why?! What’d I do now?” Grantaire feigned ignorance, he knew it pissed Bahorel off that he always potted half the balls in the first shot of the game. 

He smirked as Bahorel huffed past him to find a good angle, scanning the room as he waited. He took pool incredibly seriously, and it bored Grantaire to tears to play with him, but he hadn’t been in the mood for the pumping sweat drenched club everyone else had decided to grace with their presence tonight, so they’d found somewhere slightly more relaxed, much more his scene anyway, even if he did have to endure the longest pool games in the world. He yawned, leaning on his cue and looking towards the bar, wondering whether to get a drink in now or wait until Bahorel finished, which could be hours away. 

His eye caught a familiar blonde head laughing and chatting animatedly on the other side of the room, his friend, their work colleague, his friend’s girlfriend, Cosette. She was sitting with another blond and surrounded by various blokes, Bahorel straightened, finishing his shot and following the direction of Grantaire’s gaze. 

“Who’s that with Cosette?” 

“Dunno,” he shrugged, turning back to the game, “You done?” 

“Yeah.” 

He took his shot straight away, sinking another red, laughing at Bahorel’s annoyance, “What?! Do you want me to just miss on purpose? Give you a chance?!” 

“Dude, you just don’t take anything seriously and you still win!” 

“It’s pool! Fuck sake! You’re up man.” He indicated the beer in Bahorel’s hand, “Same again?” 

“Yeah, and a jack,” 

Grantaire nodded as he made his way through the busy room, he had to go straight past Cosette’s table but he went the long way round, figuring he’d only get stuck in conversation and he’d be better getting the drinks first then stopping on the way back. 

He watched her and her friend chat as he waited at the side of the bar, they were obviously very good friends, and Grantaire wondered where Enjolras was, he’d told him he couldn’t go out tonight with Courfeyrac and the others because he was helping Cosette out with something, but he was nowhere in sight. 

As he made his way over, he concentrated on carrying his four drinks in the pretence he hadn’t already noticed them, not wanting to interrupt if it wasn’t welcome. But he looked up as he heard his name exclaimed loudly. 

“Grantaire! Hey honey! Fancy seeing you here!” 

He made his way over, smiling softly at her. “Hey lovely,” he kissed her gently on the cheek, nodding hello at her friend as Cosette introduced her, “Francesca, hi, nice to meet you,” 

He held out his hand and she hesitantly took it, looking up briefly through long dark lashes as she peered from behind floaty curtains of luminous hair, smiling shyly. The moment their eyes met, the cobalt blue seemed to penetrate his mind in a flash of instant recognition, Grantaire was sure he’d met her before, he knew her from somewhere, but he just couldn’t quite put his finger on from where, she certainly seemed slightly perturbed by his presence, but before he had a chance to inquire, Cosette continued straight away questioning him. 

“What are you doing here? I thought you boys were all heading out together?” 

“Well yeah, I think the others all did,” he indicated Bahorel in the corner, “Except he was determined to have his arse handed to him over a few rounds and a beer or two first. Where’s Enjolras?” 

She looked startled at his question and looked at her friend with an unreadable expression for a moment before looking confused, “Oh, he’s not with you?” 

“Uhhh, nooo," he drew the words out in confusion, "Why would he be? I thought he was going with the others but he said you guys had plans tonight,” 

“Oh right.. er, well I don’t know honey, he definitely said he was heading out with you guys after dinner…” 

Grantaire nodded his head in understanding, “Ah, he must’ve thought we were all going to the Corinthe first,” 

“Ah, right, of course,” 

“Right then, er, well, looks like it’s my turn,” he indicated Bahorel over his shoulder as he waved his arm in greeting, “Catch up with you later?” 

“Sure honey, see you in a bit,” she smiled broadly as he smiled goodbye to Francesca, and they watched him weaving his way back through the crowds, letting him get all the way back before they descended into a fit of giggles. 

“Oh my fucking god!!!” 

“You’re so dead!” 

“What?! Why??” 

“You fucking called him over! I almost died when I saw him!” 

“I know! You should’ve seen your face! It was incredible!” 

“I can’t believe you did that to me!” 

“It was worth it, the ultimate test!” 

“You think we fooled him? Serious?” 

“Babe, this is Grantaire we’re talking about, he’d have said something if he’d realised, you know what he’s like,” 

“Maybe, I just got this feeling, when he looked at me…” 

“Hellooo that was him checking you out, thinking hot damn who’s this sexy bitch?! But you know what, those damn blue eyes of yours, if anything, that’s what’ll give you away to anyone who knows you. But don’t worry, I think you’re safe, Francesca…” she smirked at him over her glass as she took a sip, watching his eyes go wide. 

“FRANCESCA!! What the fuck were you thinking? Cosette, you could’ve done better than that, if anything will give it away, that'll be it, surely?!” 

“What?!” she giggled at his unimpressed face, “I had to think quick babe! We hadn’t even thought of giving you a name!” 

Enjolras smirked back at her this time, “I know, man, fuck, I just, GAH!” He shook his head, “Of all the fucking places to be I mean seriously, I just freaked out a bit there that’s all, damn, Cosette, that man will be the death of me…” he drifted off, looking over to where he was bending over the pool table, quickly averting his eyes at the sight of the jeans pulled tight over the pert ass and downing his drink as Cosette laughed her head off, 

“I need another, don’t let me look over there again, I won’t be able to stand up for the rest of the night,” 

“Aww, poor baby,” she cooed, standing up, her hand lingering on his shoulder and squeezing lightly, “I’ll get them, same again?” 

 

************************************** 

 

As Grantaire leant one hand against the wall, the other released his cock and the steady stream of liquid made its way from his straining bladder. Closing his eyes, he rested his forehead on his arm, letting the relief wash over him, why he’d waited for Bahorel to finish his shot first he had no idea. As he sighed, thinking about nothing in particular, the bright blue orbs with the pretty lashes flashed through his mind for the millionth time. Where the fuck did he know them from? And then it hit him. It wasn’t the eyes on their own that had struck such a chord with him, it was the way she looked up at him so hesitantly, so, unsure… he spent an awful lot of time with another pair of baby blues looking at him, but certainly not imploringly like that, not looking for reassurance. Definitely not looking for approval.

 

Enjolras. 

It was Enjolras?

 _She_ was Enjolras.

What. The. Fuck.

 

************************************** 

“Dude! Dude, did you see that?” 

“What?” Grantaire looked up at Bahorel from where he was lining up his shot, following his eyes, as if he needed an excuse to look in that direction again, he could hardly tear his eyes away as it was, “What?” 

“That chick with Cosette, who is it?” 

Grantaire hesitated slightly, “Francesca apparently,” 

“And who might that be?” 

Grantaire stood, shrugging, coming round to where Bahorel stood staring, “Dunno, why?” 

“Where’s Marius?” 

He froze, “With the others. Why?” 

“Do you think Cosette’s banging that?” 

Grantaire turned slowly, an incredulous look on his face as he regarded his friend, “What?” 

“Dude, serious, Cosette like, placed her hand on her shoulder,” 

“So?” 

“She squeezed it, like, staring at her all intense like,” 

“Dude, shut up.” 

“I’m serious Grantaire! Can you imagine those two going at it?! I wonder if they put on shows for Marius? Lucky fucker! Who is she anyway?” 

“I told you, I don’t know!” Grantaire was getting angry now, his knuckles white as he clenched his fists by his sides. 

“Well you met her! Sheesh! You didn’t even ask?!” 

“No, I’m not you, into everyone else’s business!” 

Bahorel just made a face at him as he walked round the table, “Who’s that?” 

“Who?” 

“That dude,” 

Grantaire turned like lightening, looking over, Cosette nowhere to be seen and a random dude standing over her friend grinning and gesturing. “Dunno. Why don’t you go ask him?” 

“Maybe it’s her boyfriend,” 

“Maybe.” 

“So was she hot? She’s looks like a fine piece of ass from here,” 

“Bahorel, fuck sake man, give it a rest!” he practically hissed through clenched teeth and still Bahorel didn’t know when to quit. 

“What?!” 

“Shut up and take your shot!” 

“I took it!” 

“Ha must be the fastest shot in history!” 

“No,” Bahorel pouted, “You just lost track of time grimacing at some other guy ogling Cosette’s friend, Francesssssca,” 

Grantaire looked up in shock, then looked away, shaking his head, feeling a slight flush creeping up his cheeks, “Don’t be stupid,” 

“Just sayin…” 

“Well don’t,” 

Bahorel poked his tongue out at him as he looked back over to see yet another guy place a drink down on the table in front of her, with Cosette coming up from behind with two drinks in hand and looking questioningly at the newcomer before taking her seat. 

“Chick’s got a lot of admirers, might go take a look,” 

“Whatever man, your round anyway,” 

Bahorel sauntered off in their direction, Grantaire sighing behind him, wondering what to make of the whole bizarre situation as he leant back on the pool table and picked up his drink. 

 

******************************* 

 

“Grantaire and Bahorel keep looking over at you,” 

“Shit! They know!” 

“Nah, don’t think so, you know what Bahorel’s like, he’s probably just grilling Grantaire about who you are and if you’re hot or not!” 

“Cosette, don’t!” 

“Well it’s true, ‘cos you’re damn fine, everyone in here is noticing, we haven’t paid for a single drink tonight, you’re saving me a fortune!” She patted his arm tenderly, “I like you, you can stay,” 

“Hey hey hey ladies! What you drinkin’?” 

“Hey Bahorel sweetie, how are you hun?” 

“How you girls doing anyway?” he swung his leg over a chair and sat down, grinning broadly at Enjolras who almost shrunk away from him in fright. Cosette stifled a snigger at the sight, the expression on his face a picture as he tried to hide. 

“Yeah we’re real good thanks, having a great night actually, aren’t we Francie?” She winked across the table, “Oh and mine’s a vodka and coke,” 

“Cool cool, and Francie is it?” he turned to face her, still doing that famous trademark smile, “Grantaire told me it was something else! Something.. Italian?” He leant over to whisper conspirationally, “But he’s not the brightest spark now is he, can’t expect him to remember much with all that emo taking up all the space in that silly little artist head of his!” 

Enjolras had to literally force himself to bite back his retort as Bahorel sat there smug as you please with himself, obviously thinking he’d one upped himself over Grantaire and that it was hilarious. 

Enjolras turned to him with narrowed eyes, “Francie, is short for Francesca, honey,” he said breathily, his sweet new voice throaty and low, barely concealing his anger. 

“Oh!” he laughed, his face losing some of its cockiness, “Bahorel strikes again!” he grinned widely, obviously under the mistaken illusion that dimples counted for something over brains, and Enjolras didn’t like how he came over bad mouthing his so called best friend in order to impress a chick. 

A so called chick. He laughed to himself at the thought. If only he knew… 

“Mine’s a vodka, double, soda, lime, and peach schnapps. Think you can remember that sweetie?” Enjolras smirked at him through his lashes, liquid courage loosening his tongue and twirling a loose strand of hair around his finger. He looked delectably coy as he leant back in his chair, exchanging a glance with Cosette who was giggling to herself across the table. 

“Sure thing, got it!” he flashed his dimples again as he strode off, leaving the girls in fits of giggles in his wake. 

“Oh I’m so glad we came out tonight, it was worth it just for that!” 

“Me too! This is fucking priceless!” 

Cosette chanced a look at Grantaire over Enjolras’ shoulder, catching him observing them wryly from his position on the pool table, “He’s looking again!” she whispered excitedly, Enjolras’ eyes widening at her words. 

“Don’t! Cosette please, don’t make it out like something it’s not, don’t tease me like that!” he implored her with his beautifully framed eyes pleading over his glass as he took a nervous gulp. 

“Okay honey, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” 

They both looked up as Bahorel came back, looking sheepish, “I hope I got this right,” he put their drinks down, going back to the bar to collect his own. 

“Psssht, if he got it right, it’s only cos that barman’s made you at least four of these already,” Cosette scoffed, smiling sweetly again as he came back, “Thanks lovely,” 

“Gantaire’s getting impatient, I can feel his glare from here, see you later, ladies,” He grinned again and was gone, unaware of two sets of eyes following his path back to Grantaire.

Cosette sighed, “Grantaire has the patience of a saint to put up with that man!” 

“Yeah, he’s harmless really, just a dick is all. Good fun when it’s just the boys though, you know?” 

“I can imagine,” 

“Probably best if you don’t..” 

Cosette smirked as she picked up her drink, “Ugh, this is rum!” 

 

******************************* 

 

It was getting to the point now where Cosette was actually annoyed, this guy just would not leave Enjolras alone, would not take no for an answer, was just sitting there talking incessantly at him, nice enough, but dull as dishwater, definitely no oil painting, and just not getting the hint. He had guts though, that’s for sure, but now he was trying to put his hands on him, and Enjolras wasn’t sure how to react. 

Cosette could see him getting frustrated, and took the opportunity to call for Grantaire as he made his way passed to the bar again. She practically ran over to him and dragged him back, talking loudly about how they were all going over to dance with Grantaire, and he cottoned on quickly, offering his hand to Francesca as the leering man drunkenly looked on. They slowly ambled away like it was always their intention, laughing and joking about having to be rescued like that, Grantaire with a protective hand resting lightly on Francesca’s waist as Cosette dragged them along, motioning Bahorel to follow them into the crowded dance floor. 

“Are you okay?” Grantaire whispered in her ear, Enjolras’ nervous nodding reassurance enough as they moved to the music. Without making it too obvious, he tried to look properly at the lithe creature in front of him, taking in the long stockinged legs, the swinging hips and nice handful of ass, and tits, where the hell did they come from?! The curly blond hair he was used to, but not like this, long wisps feathering around his face, and the blue eyes he knew so well, framed in smoky black fluttering lashes. Grantaire just didn’t know what to think. So he didn’t. He didn’t think, he just danced. 

Enjolras wasn’t sure what to do, trying not to look at Cosette comically raising her eyebrows suggestively at him from behind Grantaire’s back, and attempting to stay upright in a suave enough manner that he didn’t draw attention to his lack of dancing in heels experience. 

The music was fast enough to ensure no body to body contact, but just the thought of that caused Enjolras to keep his groin well out of the way in case he got over excited at the feel of Grantaire’s hands again around his waist, no matter how much he was always loudly trying to deny it to Cosette, the sensation of Grantaire touching him like that practically blowing his mind to the point he was oblivious to the new random guy attempting to cut in. 

The feeling of Grantaire attempting to protect him again made his head spin, and he almost felt sick with the deception, with the realisation of what he was doing. 

“I, er, I’ll be back in a minute,” he hurried away to the bathroom, unaware of the eyes following him, watching him automatically head towards the door of the gents before veering off at the last minute. 

Grantaire smiled to himself, that was so Enjolras. But this, this was all just so surreal, and he found himself buzzing, reeling at the thought that he was actually so damn attracted to him like this. To him, to Enjolras? Of course, always.

But to Francesca? 

He didn’t know. He closed his eyes as he moved to the beat, letting the music wash over him, it was all so unreal in his mind, but he was beginning to think maybe it was real after all when he opened them again and Enjolras was there, walking towards him, almost as if in slow motion, looking stunning, and completely unaware of the fact. But then he looked up and caught Grantaire’s eye, and was suddenly walking away. Grantaire watched him go, before hurriedly moving to join him back at the table, watching as he downed his drink before sinking into his chair.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked again, sitting opposite, 

“Yeah, just drank too much I think, or not enough, one of the two…” 

Grantaire just watched as he nervously twirled the straw around in the ice at the bottom of his empty glass, faltering under the entranced gaze. 

“Sorry, I er, bit light headed, you know? It’s hot out there…” he trailed off, looking up at Grantaire whose eyes were fixed to the long fingers toying with the cheap black plastic tube. “And I just really needed a drink,” he finished with a small sigh, not sure what to do next. 

“Want another?” Grantaire wasn’t sure either… 

“Oh, that’s not what I meant…” 

“I know, it’s okay, I’m getting one anyway…” he shrugged, “If you want…” 

“Okay, thanks,” Enjolras practically squeaked, as Grantaire picked up his glass and asked what he wanted. 

“Oh, it’s…” 

“It’s okay, I got it,” he cut in with a small smile, as the familiar aroma wafted under his nose, “I’d recognise that smell anywhere,” he all but whispered, smiling at him again, almost laughing as he walked away, much to Enjolras' horror. 

That’s it, he was fucked, he was completely fucked, his cover was blown, he was dead.  
Shit.  
Shit shit shit shit shit.  
Why couldn’t he drink a normal drink? Why didn’t he say rum and coke or something, less girly? Wait, what? Ugh.  
He sat there almost cowering as he awaited his fate.  
But nothing happened. Not what he was expecting. Grantaire was acting completely normal. He got the drinks, sat back down, they started to talk, and kept talking. And arguing. About everything. Just like they always did. 

Grantaire mustn’t have noticed, he must’ve just thought… Enjolras didn’t know what. But he was relieved. Here he was, sitting in a crowded bar, dressed in Cosette’s clothes, having an amazing conversation with the man he couldn't decide whether he despised or adored, who currently didn’t know who he was. It was weird. But it felt good. Really good. 

Grantaire asked him where he was from, with a name like Francesca, how he knew Cosette, what did he do, or she do, Enjolras was totally winging it, amazed at the speed he was able to make stuff up on the spot, he really should’ve figured some of this stuff out with Cosette before hand… but the booze seemed to be doing a really good job of loosening his tongue regardless as they talked on for ages.

When Cosette and Bahorel came back, laughing and joking and carrying on, trying to get them to go back and dance, they hardly noticed. When a tray of shots appeared in front of them and disappeared as if by magic, they hardly noticed. When Grantaire went to the bar, Enjolras stared after him more enraptured than he realised, so much so that he didn’t even hear when Cosette told him they were going to dance again. They sat talking and drinking for hours, completely wrapped up in one another to the point where no one else existed. 

Cosette kept one eye on proceedings from afar, her heart nearly exploding with joy when she looked around to see them sitting practically in each others laps, gazing adoringly into each others eyes, completely drunk of course, but that was besides the point. She had a niggling concern in the back of her mind about what Grantaire would do if he found out now, but hey, he looked happy in oblivion, and she found a small, albeit guilty sense of achievement at tricking him. 

She felt bad for Enjolras in a way, after getting so close, if it all blew up in his face now she feared he’d be moping around for days afterwards, but at the very least, if Enjolras could go home with a snog from Grantaire, it would make his life complete. He just didn't realise it yet. For now… Maybe Francesca could become a regular addition to their outings… 

Then it happened, before her very eyes it happened, they were laughing, laughing intimately about something, about nothing, whatever, it didn’t matter, because as they laughed, they became even more entwined, practically wrapped around each other, and fell into a full embrace, lips seeking each others like a magnet until they were finally together, soft, gentle, questioning, then faster and urgent as they granted each other access, fervent and desperate and breaking for air panting, eyes still locked, unable to break the spell if they tried. 

Cosette completely swooned at the sight, her heart melting. 

As they stared at each other, Enjolra’s head was reeling, he couldn’t believe it. There was his proof, Grantaire definitely hadn’t cottoned on, there was no way he’d be doing this if he had. It was amazing, he didn’t want it to end, and apparently neither did Grantaire as he captured his mouth once more. 

Grantaire didn’t know what to think, here he was, suddenly finding himself in a passionate lip lock with the man of his dreams, who also just happened to be his best adversary. Who he previously thought maybe-possibly -actually hated him... And was completely out of nowhere wearing women’s clothes… and completely willingly kissing him back.

What the fuck was going on??! He shook his head a little, not helping to clear it at all, his focus instantly drawn straight back to the only thing that had held his full attention all night long. The bright blue eyes stared back at him, almost as if in disbelief, and he didn’t want Enjolras to look at him like that, he didn’t want him to feel unsure, he wanted him to know how he was feeling. But he didn’t know how to put it in words, so he fell back into another desperate kiss. 

His lips were so soft. He hadn’t expected that. Well he hadn’t expected anything really, he sure as hell had never thought about this before, well ok, maybe once or twice but never in a dress, but there was just something about the way he looked tonight, the way he was looking back at him, it was driving him wild, and he marvelled at how the red lips didn’t smudge at all, expensive shit he mused, he marvelled at how Enjolras smelt different, not like himself, like, like Cosette he realised with a laugh. He marvelled at how he could just melt into those lips for hours, kissing him took his breath away, and he wanted more. 

His hand moved to Enjolras’ thigh, feeling the muscle tense beneath the touch and a jolt of electricity shot through him as he moaned into his mouth. 

“Grantaire…” Enjolras whispered breathlessly, he knew he should stop this, stop it now before it got out of control, the last thing he wanted was for Grantaire to find out now and everything to go wrong after being so unexpectedly incredible. He pulled back, trying to snap out of the fog of lust surrounding his brain as Grantaire’s hand moved higher up his thigh, but Grantaire pulled him back into the searing kiss, his hand gently squeezing as he whispered in his ear, "Wanna get out of here…?"

Enjolras stared at him, completely torn, here was everything he suddenly realised he wanted being offered to him for the taking, yet there was nothing he could do about it otherwise it could ruin everything… so he pulled away completely. 

“I… I need to, uh… go freshen up…” he couldn’t even meet Grantaire’s eye and he practically ran to the bathroom, staring at himself in the mirror, wondering how to get out of this mess.  
But little did he know, Grantaire knew exactly what he was thinking, and followed quietly to wait in the dim corridor away from the eyes of the rest of the bar. 

When he came out, Enjolras stopped in shock at seeing Grantaire standing there like that, leaning against the wall, obviously waiting for him. They stood there, staring at each other, Enjolras looking gorgeously vulnerable and conflicted, so unlike him, and Grantaire swooned a little, he could see the desire in his eyes and the regret at what he thought he had to do, so before he could say anything he wrapped his arms around the slender hips again and pinned him to the wall, kissing the life out of him. 

“It’ll be okay,” he whispered, but Enjolras protested, pushing him away, 

“No… Grantaire you don’t understand…” 

But Grantaire just ran his hand down Enjolras’ front, down the curve of his cleavage and push up boobs, and over the hard muscle of his slender abdomen that he could clearly feel under the material of his perfectly tailored jacket. The hand moved lower to rest on his belly, and Enjolras held his breath, gasping as it dropped lower to gently cup his hidden bulge, tucked neatly down one leg, restrained tightly beneath restrictive control tights holding his fake padded arse and everything else where it should be, in place of the underwear Cosette insisted he forgo to avoid the dreaded VPL under his tight booty hugging skirt. 

He gasped again as he felt the large, strong hand squeeze him gently through the material, and he felt himself twitch to life in his hand as Grantaire whispered in his ear, 

“It’s okay, _mon ange_ , I do understand, I understand perfectly…” before drawing him into another heart stopping kiss and taking his hand, leading him through the throng towards the exit. 

 

**************************** 

 

As they disappeared upstairs, neither noticed the blonde head stop dead in her tracks on the dance floor, watching their every step, stunned, disbelief evident on her face. Cosette had never seen Grantaire take someone home before, ever, despite his supposed playboy reputation, and couldn’t quite understand how it was happening now. Surely he wouldn’t be doing that if he… _knew_? Right? 

And if he didn’t know… it didn’t bear thinking about. She silently begged Grantaire to look after her boy, and hoped Enjolras would get through this unscathed. 

 

**************************** 

 

The entire cab ride was spent in total silence, their lips hardly breaking apart for even a second. Grantaire certainly had no qualms about it, he was with a stunning leggy blonde to any prying eyes, and Enjolras was unexpectedly in seventh heaven, having Grantaire’s expert hands all over him in public like that without giving a damn, it felt amazing, it was amazing, and he still couldn’t quite believe it was actually happening. In fact, why was it happening? Grantaire knew… he fucking _knew_ , and he was still here, still kissing him, still wanting him, what the hell? He must be really drunk… No change there then. And he was in a similar state for once, so he was hardly one to talk.

But one thing was for sure, he wasn’t about to go questioning it, he’d just let it play out and see what happened. 

After throwing some money at the driver, Grantaire opened the door for him and held his hand as they walked through the lobby of his apartment lock. In the elevator, their lips resumed their passionate attachment as if they’d been apart for a year, and when the doors sprung open, they practically ran down the corridor. 

Inside, they stared at each other, the door locked firm behind them, both obviously wondering what to do next, before falling into each other again. Enjolras swooned at the feeling of the strong arms wrapping around him, pressing his slender frame against the hard body, excited, scared, in shock, still in disbelief if he was honest with himself. He felt Grantaire gently brush a stray lock of hair from his cheek and tuck it back behind his ear, trying to properly see his face. Enjolras stilled, biting his lip, he’d been hiding behind his hair all night, his comfort blanket, and suddenly felt exposed, but the tender fingers brushing his skin sent shivers through his body and he relaxed into the touch. The gentle hands moved slowly, carefully pushing his jacket back further off his shoulders, the hot mouth suddenly exploring the exposed neck as the long locks of hair were swept back fully in one hand. He felt his body go limp, numb almost as the sensations swept over him of the buttons coming apart at the front of his blouse, one by one, slowly revealing the encouraged cleavage, hands trailing over the taut skin underneath the flimsy silk and moving behind to unhook the straps holding everything up. 

Grantaire looked mystified as the chicken fillets came away in his hands, “I was wondering how the fuck you did that,” he murmured, chuckling at Enjolras’ mortified face as he stared at the flesh coloured jelly moulds in horror, “You look better without them anyway, the way you really are…” Grantaire assured him, whispering into his mouth as he captured his lips heatedly, the words surprising even himself as they left his lips. He'd never have dreamt of admitting as much to Enjolras before that moment, he'd never have dared. 

His hands seemed to have a mind of their own, eagerly exploring the ample pectorals left behind, skimming below to rest on the defined stomach and running behind, resting in the dip of his back to draw the scalding hot body flush to his own, moving them gradually toward the bed all the while. 

They broke apart, chests rising and falling heavily at the heat of their connection, Enjolras’ cheeks flush with wanton need as he almost whimpered at the loss of contact. Grantaire’s breath was lost somewhere in his throat at the sight of the ebony eyelashes fluttering closed, splayed delicately against the pale skin of his cheek, his hair once again falling around his face, framing his soft features and making him appear, not fragile, not delicate, although there were elements of that there that Grantaire had never noticed before, but something else, something that had always been there but tonight had been enhanced tenfold and was screaming out at him, doing insane, crazy things to his mind. 

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered as Enjolras almost passed out from shock, he'd never seen Grantaire so serious, so earnest as he had been all night. 

He was pushing him down on the bed and climbing on top, worshipping every inch of soft skin he could reach, the red silk blouse falling to the floor, his exposed torso glistening with a sheen of anticipatory perspiration. Enjolras desperately tore Grantaire’s shirt over his head, hands almost afraid to touch the perfect specimen he’d never dreamed he'd find hiding beneath the scruffy carefree exterior, eyes roaming longingly over the expanse of flesh. 

He’d never been so close to someone before, let alone had permission to linger over the intricate markings adorning his arms, never caressed the folds of skin that gathered at the bend in his waist with his eyes before let alone his finger, never dipped into his belly button and traced the hiplines down to where they disappeared into his jeans. As he stared in awe, mesmerised, the amount of searingly hot skin grew as the jeans were shed before his very eyes, the powerful thighs straddling his own still clad in fifty denier. 

They devoured each other visually for a moment before Grantaire’s eyes hungrily moved lower, scoping out the ever growing bulge tenting out the front of the confining black material still covering Enjolras, barely. The skirt had ridden up and the strong hands caressed his thighs, moving to slowly remove the offending article of clothing. Enjolras raised his hips slightly and Grantaire pulled it down and over his feet, discarding the imposing heels at the same time. When his eyes slowly roamed back up, he stopped in surprise when they reached his hips. 

“What the fuck is this?” he asked, low in his throat, fingers trailing lightly over the enhancement of Enjolras’ own ample arse cheeks. 

Falling back against the pillows, his hair fanned out around him, Enjolras flushed brilliantly, “I’m gonna kill Cosette when I see her…” 

Grantaire actually giggled, “But what the fuck..?” 

“It’s my fake… it’s Francesca’s… butt…” 

“Okay…” Grantaire was clearly confused and somewhat fascinated, but his eyes had already moved on, now captivated with what he found in front, the prominent bulge completely visible beneath the sheer black tights fully holding his attention, “Holy fuck…” 

He ran a finger down the thick length as it sat solid, confined against the inside of his right thigh. Suddenly he couldn’t help himself and his fingers were scrabbling along the seam of the stretchy fabric, ripping a hole to get closer access to the heat inside. He was captivated as it twitched against its confines at his touch, one finger lightly running down the full length before making its way back up. 

He looked up, seeking the blue depths he longed to get lost in, only to find them hidden behind scrunched up lids. Realising Enjolras was frozen below him, far too overwhelmed to bother with something as menial as breathing, he watched his reaction as he stroked again, Enjolras’ mouth dropping open as a moan escaped that went straight to Grantaire’s groin. He seemed unable to decide between holding his breath and gasping for air, chest heaving as he lay prone, incapable of all coherent thought. 

Grantaire stared down at the perfect body, realising how much he wanted this heavenly creature, and after an entire night of restraint he was no longer in full control of his lust and alcohol induced actions.  
Realising Enjolras still hadn’t moved, hands still desperately clutching fistfuls of bedclothes, it occurred to him that the young man was possibly scared out of his wits, thinking Grantaire didn’t realise what he was doing, worrying about what would happen to him when he sobered up enough for realisation to set in, and he wondered if perhaps Enjolras had ever actually done anything like this before. And in the blink of an eye a decision was made. Instinct kicked in. 

He couldn’t resist the insatiable desire to invade his mouth once more, and as he lowered himself forward, capturing the succulent lips in his own, his fingers frantically tore into the front of the sheer material, no longer controlling much at all as the eager cock sprung forward and into his hand.

Enjolras wasn’t sure what was happening as he felt Grantaire scrambling beside him, his entire existence was honed in on the intense heat engulfing every fibre of his being from the feeling of Grantaire’s hand on his cock. He had a vague recollection of something hard and scaldingly hot prodding into his thigh at one point as he was carefully jacked into oblivion, still panting into Grantaire’s demanding mouth. 

But it wasn’t until he felt himself straddled once more, suddenly fully ensheathed inside the excruciatingly tight, hot body above him that he realised what was happening. His eyes flew open at the sound of the pained exhalation, the sight of Grantaire on top of him, gazing down at him adoringly, cock springing out from his body, hard for him, because of him, and he almost couldn’t take it, his back arching off the bed as this unexpected turn of events. 

Grantaire in turn almost came undone as Enjolras’ eyes bore into his own, the intensity incredible, but he remained still, willing his body to get used to the ample intrusion. The sudden pulse inside of him as their eyes met caused his own to roll back in his head, hands splayed across the hard chest, and he took deep breaths, calming himself, composing himself, his lip hard between his teeth as he started to move slowly, small noises escaping the back of his throat involuntarily as he worked himself up and down.

“Fuck…” Grantaire almost cried as he fell forward, chest to chest, panting into the comfort of Enjolras’ accommodating mouth, the change of angle enabling a more fluid motion and he relaxed into the movement, prising Enjolras’ hands from their iron cast hold on the sheets. 

“Hold me…” he all but begged, still moving slowly, but gradually building himself up to easily slide the full thick length up and down inside. 

Enjolras ran his hands over every bit of skin he could reach, soothing the tensed muscles in the rock solid thighs, cupping the handfuls of arse cheek, following their torturously slow path along his length, reaching to trace the patterns adorning the broad shoulders and down the unmarked expanse of his back. 

He held him close, letting Grantaire set the pace, mind still not quite sure this was real, his stockinged feet searching for purchase as the rhythm increased, bending his knees to accommodate the angle of Grantaire’s body. The sudden cry ripped from the very depths of Grantaire’s soul stopped Enjolras dead in his tracks as Grantaire’s eyes flew open, panting hard, before thrusting himself down with renewed vigour, entwining their fingers together, encouraging Enjolras to thrust upward at the same time.  
“Fuck me,” he gasped, “Harder, Enjolras, fuck, oh my god…” 

The sound of Grantaire saying things like that to him was nearly the end of Enjolras, almost crying out himself as the sinful words washed over him, but he was happy to oblige, his body automatically taking control as his mind became completely undone. 

“Grantaire…” Enjolras was close to the edge, unsure of what Grantaire would want him to do, but Grantaire wasn’t moving for anyone, in raptures at the feelings coursing through his completely overtaken body, no longer under his own control as he arched backwards, letting Enjolras thrust increasingly erratically deep inside of him. 

“Touch me…” he pleaded, and Enjolras’ eyes nearly fell out of his head at the sight of his neglected cock standing hard against his belly. 

The feel of it pulsing under his inexperienced touch spurred Enjolras on as he gripped tighter and pumped furiously, Grantaire thrusting forward into his fist as he erupted with a cry. The violent clenching of his muscles deep inside, hard and tight around the thick cock still driving at full force, drew Enjolras’ own release from the very depths of his body as he convulsed below him, eyes glued to the hot streams spurting excessively over the top of his hand. He could feel Grantaire’s arms shaking either side of him, and as his shuddering subsided they gave way, still panting heavily he collapsed beside him, arms and legs heavy where they lay, incapable of any other movement as his breathing slowly returned to normal. Enjolras wasn’t sure what to do, how to act in situations like this, so he lay there, still, half underneath Grantaire, his chest covered in thick, sticky ribbons, just waiting. 

“Fuck…” 

Enjolras wasn’t sure how to interpret that, so he said nothing, wondering what would happen next. But before he realised what he was doing he found himself asking in a small voice if he should go, the realisation that he was lying there in a wig and full make up, ripped tights, cock exposed and covered in cum, might not make for a very happy Grantaire when he actually realised what he’d done. But Grantaire looked at him like he was mad. 

“You want to go?” 

Enjolras looked down, obviously he didn’t but unsure how to respond. 

“It's ok, I understand, if you wanna go. But I'd really rather you didn't?" 

Enjolras released a breath he wasn't even aware he'd been holding, "You're sure?"

"Are you kidding? Of course I'm sure. C’mere…” Grantaire wrapped his arms around him again and held him impossibly close, kissing him softly. “You know..” he said thinking out loud, “I really like you… Francesca… a lot, but I was wondering… what would you think if we invited Enjolras, to, you know… join in…?” 

Enjolras looked at him in disbelief, eyes narrowed and not sure he heard right. 

“But that’s not to say…” Grantaire continued quietly, kissing his ear gently as he talked, “That it wouldn’t be nice if you came out to play sometimes too, you know?” He pulled him tighter to his chest, fingering the long hair, twirling it round his finger to emphasise his meaning, “Fuck, just the thought…” he drifted off for a moment, smiling at the possibilities, “Being able to have my hands all over you in public, no one any the wiser, fuuuuck, that’s so damn hot… Don’t you think?” 

Damn, maybe Cosette was right after all about this whole thing, because Enjolras had to admit that he did.  
And he couldn’t wait.


End file.
